


New Things To Learn

by ServantOfMischief



Series: Their Affections [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Tease (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Whipped (Good Omens), Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23754043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ServantOfMischief/pseuds/ServantOfMischief
Summary: A chapter which absolutely NONE of you asked for but here you go anywayAziraphale hasn't seen Crowley for some time, and he does feel bad about it, though she assures him that he shouldn't.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Their Affections [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711135
Comments: 17
Kudos: 88





	New Things To Learn

When it comes to learning new things, Aziraphale is not one to shy away. Having been married to Crowley for two years have made her much more comfortable with herself and her needs. She’s also more courageous, because unlike her father, Crowley has never once expressed any displeasure with how she carries herself, how she looks, how much she reads and loses track of time sometimes or how she has her own opinions and thoughts and is more than just a little bit stubborn about them. Unlike her father, Crowley never tells her that it is unbecoming of her.

He adores these things about her.

So she feels good when she gets up in the mornings. She feels not even an ounce of self-consciousness when she asks for affection or come with suggestions that might help him with his work or colleagues or his mood. She feels _good_ about who she is. So even now, while she heads towards her husband’s office, she feels brave and confident. She hasn’t seen him in near over a week, as swamped with work as he has been, but even if she has not properly seen him for such a long time, or even managed to have much of a conversation with him, it has not been the most lonely week she has experienced in her life yet. Babylon visited for a few days, having Warlock tagging along, and had graced Aziraphale with the one and only translated copy of a very educational book. Aziraphale loves books, all kinds, but she had found herself flushing furiously and doing her very best to keep the book hidden from her husband, not that it has taken much effort.

Even so, the book has given her an idea, and she’s feeling adventurous, and she finds herself attempting to smother a mischievous smile as she stands outside his doors. She doesn’t feel like she is very successful, but she knocks anyway.

“Come in.” She hears Crowley’s voice and she enters, and her smile softens when she sees her husband hunched over his desk, a huge dark brown thing, a grimace on his face. He looks up when she enters, and his face morphs into a smile, albeit a little strained one, and she can’t blame him.

“Oh dear, are you alright, love?” Aziraphale asks as she walks over to stand behind his chair, small hands landing on his shoulders and rubbing. Crowley sighs and leans into the touch, and she does her best to knead the tension out of him.

“Just a lot of work.” He replies. “Leaves my shoulders and back aching, just sitting like this all day, all week.” He admits and Aziraphale worries her bottom lip as she ponders about how she can suggest her little idea. Before she can find the proper opportunity though, their butler enters, and tells Crowley that a business associate has unexpectedly arrived at the estate. The very moment their butler has left them, Crowley groans loudly in annoyance before he stands up from his chair, regretfully pulling away from Aziraphale and gives her an apologetic look as he takes her hands in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“I’m sorry, angel. I promise, I will attend dinner tonight, and once I’m done with all my work, I will make it up to you.” She smiles at him, already knowing that he will. He always does. He always dotes on her and showers her in affection after periods like these. He takes her out on all the walks she wants, brings her out for lunch, even prepares very sweet and romantic dinners just because he deems her worthy of it all, because she deserves to be pampered. These gestures are sweet, she thinks. What she enjoys the most is when he finds her in the library and listens to her read out loud.

“Don’t worry, my dear. Your work is important, and I understand that.” She assures him. He gives her hands another kiss before leaving the office. While she’s feeling a little sadness tug at her heart because he had to leave, this will make things easier for her anyway.

When Crowley returns, he is disappointed but not surprised to see that Aziraphale has left. He’d have hoped she’d have found herself a book and taken a seat on the settee. Even if there would have been no room for much talking between them, he’d take comfort in having her near. With the workload he’s been saddled with, he’s only ever seen her when he drags himself to bed every night, and by then she is already fast asleep.

He misses her.

The redhaired man sighs and heads back over to his seat, sitting down and scooting the chair forward until he’s at a comfortable place at his desk and grabs his pen, ready to get back to work. He’s barely managed to write more than two sentences when he feels hands on his knees, spreading his legs. He stops, blinks, feels the hands move along his inner thighs and then, a tiny gasp as those hands come upon the rapidly growing bulge in his trousers. He takes a deep breath before he peeks beneath the desk. Wide blue eyes peek back up and he straightens properly in his seat, mind going haywire.

_‘What is going on?!’_

“Don’t mind me.” His wife’s voice pipes up.

“Don’t-?” His voice hitches as she begins unbuttoning his trousers.

“You just go back to work, love.” And how in _Somebody’s_ name is he supposed to do that when his wife is wrapping her hands carefully around his hard prick? It’s not as if they haven’t indulged in such a way before, they’ve pleasured each other with just their hands before, but that was in their _bed_. Not in his office, with his wife hidden beneath his desk like some sort of sordid secret he’s hiding away from the rest of the household! But bloody hell if it doesn’t make arousal boil in his belly. He clenches his jaw and leans forward, deciding that yes, he will do this damned paperwork while she’s doing whatever she wants down there.

It’s not like he is _completely_ unaware of how hard he is clenching his pen, how his harsh grip causes the pen to dig into his skin, but he finds himself aware of the fact that he is dangerously close to the edge already, just by her dainty, soft little hands alternates their grip on him as they slide up and down his rigid length.

_‘Fuck!’_

“Aziraphale…. Angel!” He groans. “You have- have to stop.” He’s dangerously close, but no matter how much he wants to finish, he doesn’t have a handkerchief on him, and that would most likely not be enough to clean up the mess he’ll leave on Aziraphale either when he does come.

“Why?” She asks, and he shuts his eyes tightly as her thumb press down on his slit and by everything _good and holy in this bloody world does he really have to explain it?_

“You… you, ngk, want to w-walk around the house in m-my _mess?”_ He opts for teasing, breathless as he is, leaning his back as he finds himself unable to stop the slight jerking motion of his hips. Even if it’s not something he’ll ever let happen, it is a somewhat intense thought too. He feels like an animal for even thinking it, but he can’t help it.

“Not to worry. I’ve done some reading.” Aziraphale says cheerfully and Crowley furrows his brows as he stares up at the roof of his office, confused only to suddenly arch his back, then lurch forward to slam his fist against the surface of his desk, the pen snapping in half well before he reaches the furniture as wet heat envelops his prick.

“Fuck! Aziraphale!” He very nearly shouts her name as he spills, body shaking with the force of his climax. He sprawls over his desk until he manages to gather his wits. He exhales before scooting his chair back to look down at Aziraphale, who looks thoughtful for a moment before she

Audibly

Swallows

Crowley stares. It’s all he can do as she shuffles out from beneath the desk and stands up, pulling a handkerchief from _her bloody bosom_ and daintily dabs at her mouth.

“I’ll see you at dinner then.” She says sweetly, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “I love you.” She adds, before straightening up and leaving with a skip in her step. Crowley is left absolutely stunned and speechless at what had just happened, and what he just _witnessed._


End file.
